[BCOLOR=#000000]The Creation of James was a mistake, one of which will be told for years to come…[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]It is midday, year 2051, February the 7th is the date. All is well within the massive underground facility of Pro-Day. This is where James awaits any possible retrieval from the outside world, be it from a completely random patron of whom he has never met, or, one of the staff who believes whatever has been done to James to be wrong. Perhaps even, it’s a hostile military coup, to silence the now glorified company as it makes it’s way into politics. On the 43rd level below ground, the bottom floor, is James, curled on a metal bench, cleaned to a shine within the box room. There is no sink, mirror, toilet, or any other human device within the room than the bench. James has no need for all those things, he merely chooses to stay on his bench, the only thing he knows to claim as his, or perhaps, he didn’t know what it even meant to have something that was “His” anymore, and he merely identified objects as what they were, and who they belonged to, which was, everyone but he. [/BCOLOR]

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